Sunny Suzuki and the Stupid Traitorous Rat

The sun was fully up, and despite not wanting to, so was Sunny. 

He fed Mewo by placing a bowl of food beside the window and gave her a loving belly rub, quietly whispering promises to be back later in the day to spend more time with her. 

To his luck, the pod had enough space to sit up and to even stand if he bent his back a bit, so after snatching his uniform from his trunk, he got dressed in the privacy of his curtains, later grabbing a hairbrush to fix the nest that was his head using the window as a reflective surface. Sunny considered tying his hair back, a habit born out of multiple consecutive days of self-inflicted 18 hour shifts where hair was annoying to hell. But with the exhaustion of an awful night of sleep and the weight of the next few months on his shoulders… he couldn’t be bothered. 

He was fully dressed and moderately presentable, and after four years of not even that, it was enough. 

After that was done, he finally opened the curtains for the first time since he arrived from the Great Hall.

Sunlight washed down the circular floors of the dorm, streaming in through the tall gothic windows. He marvelled for a moment, glancing around. In the calm daylight, the dorms were just as breathtaking as they were last night. That high curved ceiling gave a spacious, welcoming feeling to the room. It was admittedly awesome. 

Beneath the sills were potted plants, chests, or other stuff like bags and shoes, shit that the other kids must have left over there. There were so many animated posters and random trinkets lying around. It was years worth of personalizing one room, every object assigned a space that could easily be refurbished once summer was over. Despite the chaos of multiple boys sharing one dorm, it was still more or less organized to Sunny’s delighted surprise. No tripping on socks, hoorah! Hero’s college horror stories weren’t coming to fruition!

He stopped thinking about Hero before that train of thought could err somewhere depressing. 

Looking around it seemed that, even though he stayed in his bed for a pretty long time after waking up, it was still very early. A lot of the others didn’t rise yet, their curtains drawn for better privacy or open enough for him to see their sleeping forms. 

He didn’t recognize a single face among them. That was a blessing. 

Were they all in his year? They didn’t look eleven, but they didn’t look too old either. Chances were he got thrown into the boy group that were in their third year too. Which meant he was a stranger amongst kids who had known each other for two years already. An intruder.

He sighed quietly to himself. 

That was fine, it’s not like he wanted to make friends with any of them anyway. It was unnecessary and kind of stupid too. No reason to create connections with faces he might miss once he went home. Which he would. 

Slipping off of bed and into his shoes as quietly as he could, Sunny turned around to give Mewo one last pat on the head. See you soon. He grabbed his wand (his wand!!) from his open trunk, as well as the decently sized leather shoulder bag Atticus bought for him to carry all of his stuff (it was already stuffed with all the books he’d need for his core classes), which was enchanted with anti-thievery and lightweight charms. 

Unfortunately it wasn’t enchanted with infinite space, because those were very expensive and Atticus’ generosity “had limits” and bla bla bla. 

Either way, Sunny didn’t mind, he was just grateful that he got a bag at all. Carrying all this stuff with his arms alone would have been hell. 

Patting down his bangs that were growing dangerously low to his eyes, Sunny closed his curtains again to give Mewo privacy as she rested in her little corner, swung the bag’s strap over his shoulder, and with a small nod to himself he turned to face the door that led to the common room. 

He stared. 

His heart gave a sharp thump against his ribs. 

The wizarding world, Hogwarts, classes, everything… it’s all behind that door. 

He swallowed. 

Good thing he had practice opening doors he wanted to avoid. 

Fuck it, go, go, go!

Sunny sped walked out, pushing the door back before he could change his mind and hide away in his bed forever.

And he stepped right into… a staircase. 

A spiral staircase.

He choked on a small laugh, surprising himself as he clapped a hand over his mouth. Oh, that was ironic and not at all surprising. Sunny closed the door behind him very carefully, the last thing he wanted was to slam it shut and wake everyone up. 

The door led straight into one of the steps of a spiral staircase tower, every few steps another door presenting itself. Probably other dorms. 

Distant noise came from downstairs. It was very, very quiet, so that either meant it was very far away or there just wasn’t a whole lot of people awake and moving in the commons yet. Hopefully it was the latter. 

A twist of discomfort tugged in his gut as he began to descend down the steps, but after months of practice back home, Sunny ignored it easily enough. The urge to die every time he saw a stairway was slowly diminishing the more time passed. He pressed his hand against the bricks of the wall as he slowly made his way down. It helped a lot that it was a spiral instead of a straight slope. 

It took less than a minute until he reached the common room. 

And boy was it beautiful. 

The first word that popped into his head was ‘regal’, with how fucking chic everything was. 

It was a large circular space with a high, dome blue ceiling that also had astronomical drawings on them. Two massive stone eagles perched on opposite ends of where the walls began to melt into the ceiling, their huge wings stretched out in a curve eating up half its space, the tips of their feathers meeting.

Some white fancy-looking couches with blue blankets and pillows were scattered around, most of them close to the windows or the big fireplace/firepit at the center of the room. They were placed in a way that created a defined ring of empty space that one could easily walk around. Between every single tall window was an equally tall bookshelf, draped with silver and blue silk that matched his undone tie (Atticus tried to teach him how to tie a tie before he left, but much like his hair, he couldn’t be bothered).

Sunny stared with his jaw to the floor. 

He knew he passed this room last night, but being consciously focused to admire it now was another kind of feeling. 

A horribly sobering feeling. 

Good lord this is too fucking real. 

Swallowing down his discomfort and ignoring the looks he was getting from a few other students that noticed him lingering by the steps, Sunny clutched the bag’s straps and dipped his head, marching across the room through that vacant space available and trying not to meet anybody’s gaze. 

He almost made it to the exit when, to his disappointment, some tall pale kid with dirty blond curls caught up to him, grabbing his shoulder. Sunny successfully stifled back the urge to snap the other’s hand away, and planted his feet to the ground, stiff as a board. 

“Hey– you’re, erm, Suzuki, yeah?” asked the Boy with a hesitant, polite smile. 

Sunny’s stomach twisted, how the hell did this guy know his name, but he nodded. Even though it didn’t matter at all he couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the fact that this dude was about a foot taller than him. Height was never important to him before, but still, constantly looking up at people was getting on his nerves goddamnit. Stupid thirteen year old body.

...huh. Kel’s obsession with tallness rubbed off on him. 

The Boy’s smile grew, the gaze in his brown eyes warm.

“Well, brilliant! You’re just the one I was looking for, then. My name’s Turner, Marcus Turner. I–” He stuck out his shiny badge with a proud glint in his eyes. “–am your prefect! Professor Flitwick assigned me to help guide you around during your first day. Clearwater– the other prefect, one I may introduce you to during the feast if you want— is handling the first years, so don’t worry about being a burden on our duties or anything.”

Sunny wasn’t worried, but now that Marcus mentioned it (or rather Turner since he needed to get used to calling people by their last names here) he couldn’t help but feel the familiar prickle of anxiety ripple down his back. He didn’t say that though, and just nodded. 

Turner stared at him for a second, his smile faltering a bit. But then he stretched it even wider into a grin, tilting his head. “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you? Heard about it at the feast–” oh did he now? “–so I reckon I oughtn't be surprised. That’s alright, I can do all the talking for the both of us! I am a very good speaker, I've heard. Well, let’s go! I’m glad to see you up quite early, time is of the essence!” 

He grabbed Sunny’s forearm, and with the brightest smile in the world he began to tug him out to the entrance. Despite the initial shock at the touch, and then mild discomfort, Sunny let him continue to drag him around. Something about Turner’s more and more obvious lack of tact and cheerful golden retriever type of personality reminded him too much of Kel to be pissed.

His heart cracked at the thought, he missed them all so much–

“Alright! So over there we have…” 

Turner’s voice luckily was enough to bring him out of his thoughts, and he listened intently as the other explained the way around the castle. 

“...do mind yourself around Peeves though, that bloke’s a right nutter he is, worse than the twins. Oh, yes, yes, the twins! So, the Weasleys, you know them? Of course you do, difficult to never have come across someone in their family, I’ve heard one of them works with dragons even and how brilliant is that, and– e-erm, sorry… so, in any case, here’s a few people you ought to avoid if possible, and…”

What he initially thought would be a nuisance became his lifeline in a heartbeat. The second they had stepped outside, Sunny found himself becoming busy gazing at the beauty of the castle, the moving paintings, the fucking ghosts , and if he were by himself not only would he get lost (because holy crap this place was big ) but he would’ve been rooted in place, just staring at everything and losing his shit. 

Having a hand to hold while going down the inhumane number of stairs in the school was also embarrassingly useful. He wasn’t sure how well he would’ve stomached it the first time around without someone to help. Only half a year ago he would have not been able to so much as consider leaving the common room, but hopefully he’d be able to handle them on his own sooner or later, once the shock of his first day wore off. Hooray and thank you for exposure therapy, new stair-obsessed apartment building. 

The whole school was a damn maze, but luckily for him, he was being dragged around, and being dragged had its perks. Not only were they in the Great Hall in record time, but he also learned quite a bit about very important information. Like where the bathrooms were, and the general directions of the main classrooms. Plus other other stuff Turner talked about, but he was zoning out half the time during his sight-seeing. 

Honestly Sunny just wanted a map. 

…a map.

Oh Christ he’d need to find the Marauder’s Map as quickly as he could. If there was one way to prove Peter Pettigrew’s rat form, or at least keep an eye on him, it was that map. 

But it was with the twins right now if he wasn’t mistaken. How the hell would he get anything from the twins? Hearing about some of the shit they pulled from a first-hand account victim only made the idea of going straight to the source worse. 

Fuck it, that was a problem for future him. He could make his plans once classes were over for the day. 

But there was one thing he could help with now. 

If he remembered correctly, Care of Magical Creatures happened during the first day of school, in Hagrid’s first lesson, and it was not a class that divided Houses since it was an elective. Once Flitwick came to give (and plan) his schedule during breakfast, as Turner explained he would, Sunny could just pick the same classes as Harry and Ron and stop Draco from being a little bitch. Buckbeak was one problem he didn’t want to have– he wouldn’t touch time travel with a ten foot pole. That stuff was to be left for Hermione and her insane studies this year. 

He didn’t know how to stop Draco’s beef with the birdy yet, but he’d cross that bridge when he got there. 

After what felt like hours of walking, they arrived at the Great Hall. Staring at it now, at the grandiosity of the enchanted ceiling, at the flame of the candles and the light streaming in through the windows, sweeping down and washing the tables and floors in vibrant yellow streaks… yeah, his jaw was on the floor. Again. 

He wasn’t sure he’d get used to the sight of something so purely magical any time soon . 

He’ll probably never get used to it at all.  

His prefect brought him to the Ravenclaw table, finally letting go of his arm and plopping down in his seat a few feet away after a cheerful goodbye. 

Sunny didn’t find a spot to sit just yet. His hands laid limply by his sides as he watched. 

Turner and many other students sitting close and far dug into their food, happily chattering away. He couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight flooded in from the windows, brightening the outlines of their hair strands to white and brushing a golden hue over their black robes– or buttoned shirts depending on the student– analyzing the soft purple shadows that deepened their young and bright facial features. 

Sunny itched for his sketchbook, for his paints.

But that was something for later, if and only if he could afford it through both money and time.

…it wouldn’t be the same anyway, without being able to show it to his mom or his friends later.  

He noted the vacant spots between every other person. It seemed random at first glance, but he thought that was unlikely. They were probably saved seats, seats that had been repeatedly used time and time again through the years, rules of placement memorized and unspoken. 

These children, these people , they had routine. It was so weird to think about, even though it was so simple. They had habits, passions, lives. Lives he didn’t know about, lives that were just as important as the main ‘plot’ but were never spoken of. They weren’t words on a piece of paper, or actors playing in a movie. 

They were real. 

They were real. All of this was so, so, so real. 

It didn’t matter how many times he remembered that… it felt like the fact would never fully sink in. 

Sunny spared a glance at the Gryffindor table. 

There was barely anybody there, definitely no Golden Trio, and his tense shoulders slumped slightly with relief. Yay for that, at least. Surprisingly though, many of the students who did sit there were giving him odd, curious looks. Uh, hi? What did he do to warrant that?... Oh, right. New third year student. 

And the fact he was just standing and staring probably didn’t help. 

He ducked his head and patted down his bangs again, hoping that his face wasn’t as visible. 

Attention of any form was the last thing he needed. Honestly at this point the idea of melting into the shadows and disappearing for eternity was really fucking appealing, a chance to just forget everything about this world and the world he left behind, and to exist for a little while without having to actually live all of life’s stupid emotional baggage. 

This situation, these people, himself, it was all driving him crazy. He didn’t know how he didn’t lose his shit completely already. Yet. 

Sunny’s hand twitched, and he balled it into a fist, nails digging into his palm as he locked his jaw.

He could feel it coming, rumbling in the corners of his mind, but it was easy to push it away for now. The panic, the breakdown, call it whatever you want, he knew it was inevitable. He knew himself. Sooner or later he would crack and he didn’t know what he was going to do then. But it was easy to push it away for now. And later. And forever. And it was just as easy to imagine his steak knife curled in his hand, safe and steady in his grip, and the purple skies, the bad enemies, the flowers, the laughs, the freedom, the joy, the joy, the joy, the joy – and he slammed away the thought that was so comforting it was horribly alarming. 

Goddamnit.

Come on, Sunny! 

He didn’t have a real, full-blown mental spiral even once for this last month, no reason to break that streak now!

…he really needed to go see his therapist as soon as possible. 

But, alas, other reality and all that. 

Would he ever see anyone ever aga–

Stop it. 

After glancing around and finding an empty spot near the staff table that didn’t have anybody else near, he  grabbed his bag and headed down, the clap of his steps inaudible over the growing chatter of the Hall as more and more students trinkled in. He sat down on the hard wooden bench, taking off his bag and setting it down beside him. Hopefully nobody would sit near him. 

Sunny eyed the food, but made no move to eat it just yet, grabbing a piece of paper and pen from his bag (fuck feather pens, he had insisted on buying muggle designs during the shopping spree in Diagon). 

He should write Atticus a letter. 

Then, he would eat something, anything, and the rest of the day could be beared. 

.

..

.

His first lesson was with Trelawney. 

Because of course it was.

Sunny tried not to glower at his schedule as he followed a few other Ravenclaws who shared the same class. It was two girls and one boy. He didn’t know their names and he didn’t care to find out. His mind was a bit busy feeling sorry for himself– he had enough of prophecies and cryptic messages from his own brain, thanks, he did not feel like being told about his horrible, terrible fate in front of an entire class.

Speaking of classes…

Divination, Transfiguration, and then Care of Magical Creatures, with a lunch break in between. That was the schedule of his first day. 

Those were all classes that he shared with Gryffindors.  

And most importantly, Harry. 

He sighed to himself and just stuffed the paper into his bag, clutching the leather straps with a quiet scowl.  

This was going to be a long day. 

.

..

.

Divination went… surprisingly fine. 

Trelawney was too busy predicting Harry’s demise using Ron’s teacup for her to predict any unfortunate event in Sunny’s life. He was never more grateful that he wasn’t a main character in anything. 

He sat all the way in the back, next to some fourth year (she skipped divination last year) Hufflepuff girl with dark brown skin, black coily hair, and bright amber eyes, who seemed to be just as quiet as he was. The two of them got along, falling into a silent agreement of, well, staying silent, and just pointing at pictures in the book (they had to share hers, since he hadn’t bought it yet) of whatever they thought was in the other’s teacup. She seemed to appreciate the quiet lack of pressure of speaking as much as he did.

She gave him her name at the end of class, Abigail Roberts. Sunny went to give her his name too, but then she quickly blurted out she already knew it, and before either of them could fix that awkward mistake her cheeks darkened faintly with embarrassment and she left. 

…Sunny was not liking the fact he already had a reputation (ish) in this school one bit. 

He focused on getting to Transfiguration on time instead of mulling over that interaction. At least it felt like he made a friend? Kinda? He didn’t want any friends, but getting along with classmates would make things much easier for him in the long run. Either way, he was surprisingly happy about having met Abigail. 

Finding his way to the other classroom was actually hell, but to his luck, some Gryffindors– an Indian girl with smooth straight hair called Parvati Patil and a white blond curly-haired girl named Lavender Brown– found him right as he was about to make a wrong turn and get even more lost.

Sunny did not remember either of them at all from the books or the movies, and in his defense he was skimming it more often than not just so he could understand Mari’s favorite things. All his niche knowledge came from his sister herself whenever she rambled on and on, or told him a Harry Potter-inspired bedtime story to sleep after he had a nightmare. 

Either way, thank goodness these two existed, because they very kindly swept him off to the Transfiguration classroom. They chatted the entire way, both of them looking very grim and concerned, practically vibrating with anxiety in a way that, despite his gratitude, was making Sunny progressively more and more nervous. 

“Do you think it’s because of Black?” asked Parvati in a loud whisper, her eyes widening. “Merlin’s beard, I take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about Potter… this is terrible! Someone ought to tell Professor Dumbledore, I reckon he’d know what to do–”

“Yes but the prophecy– the– the teacup, or whatever it was, was already seen by Trelawney! What if there’s no way to stop it?!” cried Lavender much louder than her whispering friend. “Oh, and not only did she read his cup, but remember when she said that one of us would leave us forever around Easter… you don’t reckon it’s–”

“Bloody hell, Harry has his days numbered, oh, this is terrible, this is awful…” 

“We have to find some way to fix this, there must be one..!” 

And on and on they went, Sunny remaining quiet as he listened to the two. 

At first he found it wholesome how these two girls were so worried for their classmate, but the more they talked the more he sobered up from that belief. There was definitely a shade of genuine concern in there, yeah, but they just seemed to like gossip. Once Parvati stumbled on the topic of what clothes she’d wear at Harry's funeral (which holy shit that’s kind of dark don’t you think?) the two swerved topics to fashion and what this one girl was wearing last year so quickly that it left Sunny’s mind swimming. 

Goddamn. Whatever made them happy, he supposed. At least they weren’t talking shit.

“You don’t seem all too worried about Harry…” said one of the girls in a non-whispery voice for once, actually talking in a normal volume, and it took Sunny a second to process the fact that they were talking directly to him.

He blinked, turning to them, and then simply shrugged.

Lavender, the one who probably talked, frowned. “Do you not care?”

Realizing silence may come off worse than he intended, Sunny held back a sigh and verbally answered. “No, I do, but I just think he’ll be fine.” 

Both of them blinked, surprised by his words or his accent he didn’t know, and then Parvati tilted her head. 

“Why do you say that?”

Sunny shrugged again, and gave the best answer he could muster. 

“Because he’s Harry Potter.” 

They eventually arrived, and Sunny immediately hurried off to the seat in the middle of the class closest to the wall. He didn’t want to draw attention but he did miss two years of school. If he wanted to be any help to the plot and stuff, he needed to know more about subjects that actually mattered. He needed to be able to hear and see everything in class, and this spot felt like the right compromise. 

When Harry arrived a bit later, he picked the seat all the way in the back, close to where Sunny originally was going to sit. Ha! Talk about luck. 

Sunny kept his eyes forward, determined not to look back, and his finger twitched. 

He curled his hand into a fist. 

…He really wanted his sketchbook. 

Irritatingly, as the hour passed, the class didn’t go nearly as well as Divination did. 

Why? Well. Sunny was, as previously mentioned, really fucking behind. 

Professor McGonagall spoke well as she explained assignments and theoretical stuff, and he was very entranced by her elegant movements and examples of magic, but the problem that kept him from enjoying the lesson was that he was missing all the context and knowledge he needed to understand a single thing she was talking about. It all went in one ear and out the other.

It didn’t help that the room was tense and the air stiff, most of his classmates constantly giving Harry these side glances, something that only changed halfway through the class once McGonagall debunked Harry’s prophesied death, telling everyone that Trelawney always said somebody would die each year and bla, bla, bla. 

Sunny wasn’t paying too much attention, he remembered this part pretty well from the books and that fact was making him lose his shit just a tad.

He didn’t even take out his wand the entire time (other students did, and were doing the assignments, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it so why bother) and soon enough people were packing up and leaving. He jumped to his feet, slid through the row of seats, and began marching to the exit– the faster he could get out, the sooner he’d be able to plan a solution for his Buckbeak problem. 

McGonagall’s voice intervened, however. 

“Mr. Suzuki, may I have a few moments please?”

Sunny paused by the door, hands clutching his strap, and a few students who had yet to leave (most of them Ravenclaws, thankfully) gave him odd or pitying looks as they exited. His shoulders slumped as he sighed quietly out his nose, eyes sliding close in momentary frustration. 

Just great. Exactly what he needed. 

He turned around, tilting his head at the woman. 

Professor McGonagall looked very fancy in her deep green velvet dress-like robe, her hat pointy and as sharp as her features, folding to the side beneath gravity. She stood straight in front of her desk, gesturing to a nearby chair. “Have a seat, Mr. Suzuki.”

Oh, he had an idea what this was for. Happened with High School too once he finally started attending it. 

She was gonna give him two years worth of catch-up homework. 

Greeeeaaat. 

Sunny bit back a frustrated retort and nodded, walking over to her and sitting down. 

“My name is Professor McGonagall, if you don’t recall from the feast last night,” she began, waving her wand and summoning a few books that materialized in the air, and he successfully held back an awestruck stare (seeing magic was something he was used to by now, but seeing magic done by the Professor McGonagall was something else). 

It was only now that Sunny realized he had never actually been formally introduced to her. Fucking wild. Why would she assume that he wasn’t paying attention during the feast, though? Like, he wasn’t, that much was true, but was it that obvious? He hoped not. Maybe she said that just in case. 

The books landed on the table with a loud thud, and he held back a jolt. 

McGonagall rested the tip of her wand on the palm of her hand as she looked down at him.

“It is a pleasure to have you join us at Hogwarts, I hope that you’ll find yourself at home here.” She offered him a smile, but quickly moved on. “As I’m sure you have plenty of things to do now–” Yeah, like debating whether the plan to punch Malfoy and send him to the Hospital Wing was actually that bad. “–I won’t keep you for long, so please do listen.”

She pointed at the books with her gaze and a nod of the head. 

“As you have unfortunately missed a lot of critical instruction thanks to your belated admission, I have assembled a list of books for you to read that contain not only the theoretical aspects of the art of Transfiguration, but practical examples and instructions as well. I asked the Headmaster for permission to assign you weekly lessons on top of your daily tutoring with your mentor, and he’s very kindly granted it for me. You are to read two chapters a day and practice the spells contained during your free time. Every Friday, starting next week, you are to meet me here after dinner so that I can check on your progress and correct any mistakes. I understand this may feel overwhelming, but I won’t allow any student of mine to be behind, and you may find plenty of support from your teachers and classmates if you seek it out.” 

…shit. 

He was not going to have any free time with how things were going, huh? Great. Sunny tried not to let his disappointment show. It’s not like it mattered anyway. His sketchbook, his main hobby and passion, was gone, months worth of art gone. He had nothing else to do. 

He nodded once in understanding. She tilted her head at him.

“...do you have any questions for me, Mr. Suzuki?”

Not really. 

He was about to shake his head, but then a question did pop into his mind. Sunny swallowed, and cleared his throat slightly to get his voice to work. “Uhm, yeah, but just one… you said I’m gonna have a mentor? Do you know who it’s gonna be?” 

McGonagall blinked, visibly surprised. Why…? Was it something he said? Or maybe it was because he spoke at all, he wouldn’t be surprised if she assumed he was British or something until now. 

God was he going to get this reaction from every single person at this point? The thought made him want to laugh, and cry, and just sigh, but he successfully held each impulse back. 

“Ah… yes, I do,” said the Professor after a beat, nodding her head. “Professor Lupin has enthusiastically volunteered once we were all informed of your position and situation. I take it you’re familiar with him, yes?”

He felt blood rush up to his face. 

Enthusiastically volunteered. 

Holy shit a fictional character that died in the seventh book and made him cry didn’t fucking hate him after that mortifying interaction he completely forgot about until now. Embarrassment didn’t even begin to scratch at the surface of the pitiful drop that he felt in his chest and the heat in his face. 

Sunny nodded once. 

She gave him a pinched smile, looking very amused. And it was just that, simply... amused. Unaware of how strange this was to him, of how insane her words should be to his ears, of how insane this entire situation was to him. The sight made him more irritated than he had any reason to be, a small lump of flame dropping into his gut. Must be the sleep deprivation, he was getting worked up over the smallest shit.

“I see. Well, if he didn’t send a letter to you yesterday, I believe he’ll send it tonight to inform you of your tutoring schedule. Do you have any other questions for me, Mr. Suzuki?”

He shook his head. 

“Very well. You are dismissed, enjoy your lunch.” 

Sunny shoved all the books into his bag and bolted without another word, ignoring the sizzling of a repressed shot of anger that for some reason didn't fade away.  

.

..

.

Lunch passed by in a blur, the majority of time spent thinking instead of actually eating. He didn’t know whether he actually took a bite of anything, and honestly he didn’t care— he wasn’t hungry, and even if he was he could easily wait until dinner. Breakfast still felt heavy in his stomach despite the fact he only managed a loaf of bread or two, and he didn’t want to push his body any further. Throwing up in Hogwarts was not on his bucket list, thanks.

Care of Magical Creatures was outside, much to Sunny’s dismay. On the brighter side of things, different from all the other glum-looking students, he did not have a flesh hungry Monster Book of Monsters that was trying to eat his fingers every five seconds, so yay to that! He didn’t remember whether or not Harry used the thing for his classes at all, and if he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to buy that literal monstrosity any time soon.  

Sunny kept his gaze to the ground, making sure he didn’t trip on any tree roots or his own feet, staying as far from the Golden Trio and Hagrid as he could. They didn’t seem to notice him, most of the students didn’t, all too busy paying attention to Malfoy’s obnoxiously loud complaints.

“Oh, we were meant to pet them, obviously! Silly us, how couldn’t we have thought of that before?”

Draco Malfoy’s high-pitched, whiny, sarcastic voice was the equivalent of listening to nails on a chalkboard. After hearing multiple students (meaning, one: Draco. And then others who non-verbally agreed with the sentiment) wonder how to open the Monster Books, Hagrid, sweet gentle giant bushy bearded Hagrid, explained, and the brat did not miss a single opportunity to mock the teacher— or professor, whatever— in every way he could.

“Ah… I… I thought they were funny,” mumbled Hagrid to himself, Harry, Ron and Hermione already going to comfort their friend, but Draco, stupid punchable Draco, beat them to it.

“Oh yes, yes, very funny, tremendously hilarious, in fact. This place is truly going to the dogs, if my father knew that Dumbledore would hire this clown for a Professor—”

The audacity to insult a teacher.

Sunny’s hands balled into fists, and he kept his darkening eyes locked to the ground, focusing on his breathing. 

Obnoxious little brat.

“Shut it, Malfoy,” snapped Harry, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to be heard, looking about as angry as Sunny was getting. Draco’s comment was cut off quickly, but not quickly enough, and Hagrid seemed to deflate every passing second as the words sunk in, his initial excitement to instruct the class wavering to anxiety. 

Draco said something else in retort, something Sunny didn’t quite catch over his own thoughts— replace that bitch with the pink pretty princess Sweetheart and there would be no differences— Harry repeated his shut-up command, and eventually, thankfully, class continued.

Or at least, continued for most of the students.

They went deeper into the forest, and Sunny ducked his head to dodge a dangerously low branch. Hagrid stuttered over his lesson, and although he should be paying attention to it, he couldn’t stop focusing on how Draco and his friends weren’t paying attention.

Muttering and giggling and whispering, pulling down their hoods every now and then whenever Harry looked their way to pretend and be dementors (oh yeah Harry passed out too didn’t he) as a way to mock him, joking and sneering and doing every little thing except show a drop of respect to anybody.

Some two other unfamiliar Slytherins were actually trying to pay attention, Sunny noted the way they were craning their necks and walking a bit further away in order to distance themselves and listen better, but Draco was being so obnoxiously loud and annoying and fuck this stupidity would cost the life of an innocent animal and so much stress and grief and–

“Oooooo!” cried Lavender Brown suddenly a few feet beside him, and Sunny jolted in his spot, snapped out of his thoughts as he looked up.

His eyes widened and his heart stuttered in his chest.

Before them, stepping elegantly out of the surrounding bushes, was a hippogriff. It was so large, its razor sharp beak and sharper eyes towering above them effortlessly. A simple tilt of the head from this creature was enough for Sunny to take a considerable step back, his heart beating faster.

It was beautiful.

And absolutely terrifying. 

He swallowed down his dry throat, fighting every urge that made him want to turn around and bolt, or reach for the tucked-away wand in his pocket. 

“Hippogriffs!” announced Hagrid proudly, a glowing grin on his face. “Beautiful, aren’ they? Erm.. before yeh come any nearer, first thing yeh gotta know is, they’re proud, proud creatures. Never insult a hippogriff, as that may be the last thing yeh do.”

Sunny swallowed down again, but for different reasons this time. 

His heart punched against his ribs, blood pounding in his ears as the sounds and voices surrounding him faded. There was a ringing noise, that familiar tinnitus that followed his quickly funneling vision. 

He could focus on nothing else other than that beautiful beast. 

This was it. 

Harry would get on that thing, he would fly, and then Draco would insult it and it would be sentenced to die after reacting accordingly. 

This was the first wrong he could prevent. 

The simplest one by far. 

He would not succumb to failure. 

Sounds and voices and motions returned to him all at once, and Sunny barely had time to register the fact the kids were backing up after Hagrid’s request for a volunteer before he followed suit in creating distance. Thankfully he was already behind the crowd as it was, and even if he hadn’t moved there was a low chance Hagrid would’ve picked him. 

Harry volunteered, Hagrid smiled, explained, and one thing led to another and before he knew it he was up and off into the sky.

The air blasted his face and Sunny blinked at the amount of wind a single strong beat of that hippogriff’s enormous wings could create, stunned as his jaw fell to the ground and he watched the two of them become a dot of blurry color in the clouds. 

Holy shit. 

Even if he wasn’t afraid of heights at all he would’ve had a panic attack at that. 

Sunny, like many of the other students, were silently watching Harry and Buckbeak slide and spin across the air intently, with matching expressions of awe and fear. Hagrid was glowing with pride as he leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, content and happy with how his lesson was going despite the initial bumps that came from Draco’s bitchery. 

…and speaking of Malfoy.

He, too, had looked impressed, but that barely lasted a second before he schooled his face and turned the awe into childish envy. That obnoxious tone returned to his voice as he spoke (as if it ever left), and the sound of it made Sunny’s blood boil. 

“Psh, if Potter can do it then it mustn’t be that hard,” he said to his friends– and judging by the bulky sizes of both boys, it was Crabbe and Goyle. “I could ride that bloody chicken just as well if I wanted to. You’ll see, I’ll do it even faster.” 

Chicken.

He called that beautiful, terrifying, one-of-a-kind type of beast a fucking chicken– oh, if Mari were here to hear that level of disrespect to her favorite creature she would–

The thought melted into magma that flooded his veins. Fire festered painfully in his gut.

Sunny’s mouth decided enough was enough, even when his brain never got the chance to agree. There was the faintest unconscious logic to his impulse, the only thing that crossed his mind and allowed the words to flood out– because if he couldn’t make Draco understand, maybe he could get him distracted. 

Before he knew what he was doing he had stepped forward, his face twisting into a furious glare. 

“It’s not a chicken, ” snapped Sunny, and his voice carried easily over the quiet crowd he was hiding behind, the vitriol in his words surprising his own ears. “ And if you were paying a drop of attention you wouldn’t forget the most important detail of, you know, not insulting it. If you want to tempt nature or fate or whatever and get eaten, be my guest, but try to not blame your own stupidity on an animal afterwards.” 

Everyone’s eyes darted from the sky to Sunny instead, most stunned into silence in surprise or whispering to their friends for the same reasons. Heads turned and the crowd slowly parted in one fluid motion, the kids somehow instinctively making it easier for Draco and Sunny to see each other. 

Malfoy didn’t even look angry at first, his face stuck in simple surprised shock. 

His grey eyes pierced right through Sunny’s fucking soul, and the mildly disgusted confusion that settled in his gaze made something inside of him twist. It was suddenly crystal clear why Slytherins were so keen to follow Malfoy. Something about the way he just looked at somebody like they were trash already made them feel smaller, weaker, less important. Holy shit, he never thought he’d come face-to-face with someone whose mere glance could make something in him shrivel up and die, but he thankfully managed to hold back a flinch. 

Annoyingly intimidating or not, the sight of Draco’s… Draco-ness didn’t make Sunny any less angry, quite the contrary, and for a moment, he felt a blade in his hand, loud music in his ears, repulsive pink flooding his vision–

He shoved the memory dream out of his mind with practiced ease. 

“Who are you?” asked Malfoy, raising an eyebrow as he returned the glare. His words were somehow a question and an insult at the same time, and before Sunny could open his mouth to answer, Draco's eyes widened with dawned recognition, and a stupid wide grin split across his face.

“Oh, I know who you are. You’re Suzuki, aren’t you? Father told me all about you. The dirty little squib . What would you know about instructions, you’ve never gone to a real school have you? Sad. I’m sure they would’ve appreciated a few more maids. Or target practice, incompetent as you are.” 

Sunny forgot to be insulted for a second– “father told me about you” rang through his mind because what the fuck– but the words registered, of course they did, and immediately he regretted every decision leading up to this moment as his cheeks began to burn as viscerally as his gut. 

Blade in his hand, music in his ears, repulsive pink–

Being ridiculed by a fictional character, lame and insignificant insults or not, was also not in his bucket list. 

Or a real person now, whatever, the sentiment was the same. 

“Oh, shut up Malfoy!” said an unfamiliar male voice, and Sunny didn’t care enough to look at who it was. 

Hagrid was walking down from his tree by now. “Alrigh’, that’s enough of that, yeh will not–”

“You cheated your way in, I bet,” Draco cut in, his grin widening as tilted his head, stepping towards Sunny who impulsively stepped back. His step turned into a march, and Sunny forced himself to stay rooted to the spot as Malfoy approached, voice growing louder with disgusting overconfidence. “Can’t do a single spell, can you? That filthy cat and Filch are inside the castle, by the way, they’ve probably been waiting for you for hours now, though I understand if you got lost from where you should be, your kind tend to be slower don’t they–” 

Blade in his hand, music in his ears, repulsive pink in his vision, repulsive pink, repulsive pink, repulsive, repulsive, repulsive, repulsive, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you I hate you I hate you and your stupid recital you don’t think about anyone other than yourself–

“FIFTEEN POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!” roared Hagrid only two feet away, furious, and Sunny held back another flinch. Most of the students had agglomerated to the side, away from them, watching the show with blatant curiosity and cautious amusement. “Consider yerself lucky it wasn’ fifty, Malfoy. Yeh keep up with that and I’ll give yeh detention too, that is no way of speakin’ to yeh classmate–” 

Before he could finish his words, he fell into dead silence.

For some reason, he looked surprised. 

And only now did Sunny register the sudden drop and death of sound. 

…why did Hagrid– and everyone else– get quiet all of a sudden?

Giggles began to bubble across the crowd. Giggles and chuckles that got progressively louder. 

Sunny didn’t understand until he looked back at Malfoy, and his eyes widened. 

Draco’s hair had turned a bright, violent, disgusting shade of pink. Its slicked back hairstyle had undone itself, curling at the edges into the very faint wave pattern Sweetheart’s hair once had and Draco’s pin-straight strands didn’t. 

It was so, so, so pink.  

And so was his eyes. 

Holy. Shit. 

Malfoy also had stopped dead in his tracks, but for different reasons, his furrowed brows angry and surprised as he looked at Hagrid. It was as if he just realized the man had any form of authority over him. He glowered at the professor for a few more seconds, and after a beat, glanced around, confused at the sudden silence and suppressed laughter. But he moved on with a roll of his eyes, seemingly deciding not to think much of it. 

Draco opened his mouth, looked straight into Hagrid’s eyes, thought better of it, and with a bitterly twisted expression as if he just ate a very sour lemon, he closed it. 

“ Fine, ” he growled through clenched teeth, and with a glare of a thousand burning suns he turned to Sunny again, spitting out his next words. “You’d better watch yourself squib, just you wait ‘till my father hears about this.” 

Before Sunny had the chance to laugh or Hagrid the chance to scold, the loud sound of beating wings and shrieks of surprise from multiple scattered students quickly took hold of everybody’s attention as Harry and Buckbeak majestically descended back down to the ground. 

More than happy to have an excuse to break away from the former atmosphere, Hagrid jumped right back into the lesson, praising Potter and the hippogriff with a warm smile that betrayed nothing of what just occurred the last minute.

Harry looked tired but content at the joy that was vibrantly emanating from the professor, and he dazedly went back to Hermione and Ron, sparing a confused glance and raise of the eyebrow at Draco’s direction. 

Sunny watched quietly as the trio began to chatter. Or, well, Ron and Harry were talking, while their friend–

A shot of lightning went through him when his eyes met with Hermione’s. 

The look on her face was unreadable. 

He quickly turned away, and made sure to really just look down at the floor now, cheeks burning for another reason entirely separate to anger. 

Being caught like that was mortifying, he didn’t want to give Harry any more reasons to think of him as stalker-ish now that he was his classmate. God forbid Potter trying to talk to him again during class or just during school, somewhere where he couldn’t run away half as easily as before. 

…though maybe running away from Harry wasn’t the best idea if he wanted to help. 

He could do more if they were friends. 

Sunny swallowed down the dryness of his throat and mustered up enough resolve to look back up at the three of them. Hermione wasn’t staring in his direction anymore thank goodness, the back of her head was the only thing he could see. The other two weren’t looking his way either. Ron was still talking very excitedly about something, and Harry was listening and nodding his head, his face twisting into something that was stuck between puzzlement and surprise. Sunny couldn’t make it out exactly from where he stood. 

His bright green eyes flickered away from Ron for a second, and Sunny, the absolute coward, looked back down to the ground before any possible eye contact could be made. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t do it. 

Not after everything in Diagon Alley, not during everything in this damn world, he simply couldn’t do it. 

At least just look at him. 

Sunny didn’t. 

He stayed at a safe distance from all the hippogriffs that had joined the field, watching all the other students interact with the beasts with their polite smiles and half-assed rituals of trust that somehow worked, despite the many mistakes made throughout the exchanges. 

These were patient hippogriffs, ones Hagrid knew wouldn’t be eager to hurt the children, he could tell that much. Malfoy somehow managed to piss off the calmer individuals of this species. Fucking wild. 

…and speaking of Malfoy. 

Sunny lingered by a tree, leaning his back against it with his hands strangling the straps of his bag. 

There was only one other figure that wasn’t joining the group and doing the activity like him. 

Three actually, if one counted the two shadows that followed him around everywhere in the books, the movies, and in this reality. 

Draco sat away from everyone with Crabbe and Goyle in toe, resting by the roots of another distant tree, wearing a glare that was in equal parts gratified and just as bitter as before. He showed no sign of wanting to join in, and he was constantly rolling his eyes and loudly making a witty comment or two about how stupid the class was. Not loud enough for the hippogriffs to care though, from their area on the other side of the lesson’s region. 

Huh. 

That was really funny. 

He seemed to think that his lack of participation was being taken as some form of punishment for Hagrid’s behavior. As if anybody cared. And it was even more hilarious that absolutely nobody wanted to tell him about his new look. His friends because of his reaction, and his enemies because of his… everything else. Draco was none the wiser. 

For once, a comfortable warmth of joy bloomed across Sunny’s progressively lightening chest at the idea of somebody being so conceited, so convinced that the world revolved around them and them only. This time, that saved Buckbeak’s life. 

A small smile made its way to his face, and he looked away, going back to calmly people-watching from his spot. It was strangely peaceful, contentment finally soothing down that festering burn of annoyance. 

Alright then. He could do this, maybe.

Stop Pettigrew, protect Harry, stay secret, go home.

Four tasks left.